An American.

by Belle W. Gue.

INTRODUCTION

There are many characteristics that are essential to true Americanism; among these, none is more prominent than an inborn desire, not only to obtain personal liberty, but, also, to see justice done to others.

We, as Americans, say, with loving pride, that we are citizens of that _one fair land whose single boast has always been that it was free_.

Oppression of the weak and ignorant, by those who are wiser and stronger than they, has, always, aroused in us p.r.o.nounced, and, often, openly expressed, indignation. More than once, have we, as a nation, arrayed ourselves upon the side of the down-trodden and pitiful, and, in every such instance, we have greatly increased and enhanced the well-being of those whose cause we have espoused.

We have never gone out of our way to look for trouble, being more inclined to attend to our own affairs than to oversee those of our neighbors, and, yet, when, repeatedly, gross acts of injustice and cruelty have been forced under our observation, we have, at times, been aroused to a state of what we have honestly believed to be righteous indignation, and, in these circ.u.mstances, we have conducted ourselves in accordance with our ability and the fervor of our convictions.

Prior to the evening of February fifteenth, eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, our relations with the government of Spain were amicable; while we, as a people, sympathized, to some extent, with the uprisings of native Cubans, yet, those who were at the head of our national affairs did not, in any instance, uphold or palliate the unlawful acts of the insurrectionists; but, during the hours of darkness of that never-to-be-forgotten night, a dastardly and totally inexcusable deed, in spite of the recent renewal of our friendly intercourse with the Spanish government, made of that nation a foe to be contended against with all the might that was in us.

While our only object, in the beginning of the Spanish-American war, was to teach the Spaniard the lesson he had so richly deserved to learn, at the same time, as the results of autocratic misrule were brought, more and more closely, under our direct observation, we took much honest pride in the reflection that we were not only resenting, as became free and enlightened men and women, an injury to our own well-beloved country, but that we were, at the same time, giving to a people, whose necks were raw and bleeding from the yoke of a tyrannical exercise of absolute power, an opportunity to throw off that yoke, and become, in due time, a self-governed and a self-respecting and an independent nation.

Our short and fiery encounter with Spain demonstrated, as many years of unbroken peace and prosperity had not done and never could do, the invincibility of American arms, and the unexampled superiority of American daring, devotion, inventive genius and self-adjusting prowess; it was supposed that we had a very inadequate naval equipment, and that our standing army was very small, besides being poorly trained; in spite of this widely spread supposition, our troops won many brilliant victories upon the sea as well as on the land.

The same spirit that saved the day for freedom and the right at Bunker Hill and Bennington animated the descendants of those gallant and intrepid warriors, who, soon after the heroic birth of our Republic, defended the cause they deemed to be a sacred one with all that they held dear, when they, too, went to meet the carefully trained and richly caparisoned phalanxes of those who bowed their heads and bent their suppliant knees unto an earthly king.

An American volunteer is as nearly unconquerable as any merely human being can ever really be; his whole being is entirely devoted to the principle for the vindication of which he is about to enter into bodily combat; he is not hampered or bound down by anything that does not meet with the approval of his own conscience; physically, mentally, and morally, he is the equal of any enemy against whom he may be pitted; above him there floats a flag that has never been defeated, behind him are glorious deeds of valor that are well worthy of emulation, and before him are the hopes and aspirations of those who, with their feet firmly planted upon solid ground, practical, energetic and capable, yet, always, move among their fellows, seeing visions, dreaming dreams.

Shortly before the beginning of the Spanish-American war, there were some, across the water, who dared to complacently imagine that the glowing spark of patriotism, implanted in the breast of every true American at the time of his birth, had lost its kindling power; those who were depending upon this erroneous idea must have had their complacency somewhat rudely shaken when it became known, all over the world, that, within ten days after President McKinley issued a call for one hundred and twenty-five thousand volunteers, seven hundred and fifty thousand eager patriots answered to that call, offering their energies and, if needs be, their lives, to the service of the land they loved and honored.

After thirty-three years of peace, the fighting men of America buckled on their armor, bade a tearful farewell to their homes and families, and, determined, enthusiastic and buoyant, went, blithely, forward to meet, and conquer, a foreign foe; there was not one among these who did not realize and consider the seriousness of the enterprise he had started out upon, yet neither was there one who did not add, in every way within his power, to the light-hearted joyousness, and gentle, childish humor, with which our fearless and devoted "boys" undertook to secure the freedom and general well-being of the Island people, as well as to resent the insult that had been offered to our own country.

The central figure of the Spanish-American war, from its hasty inception until its brilliant and triumphant close, was that of a gallant gentleman, mounted on a high-lifed horse ... as sternly devoted to principle and duty as any Puritan had ever been, as full of the bounding joy of life as any boy who followed him, leader, comrade, friend and brother, fearless, resourceful, primitive, refined, highly educated, yet as simple-hearted as an innocent child, bold, yet cautious and careful, unselfish, yet richly endowed with worldly wisdom, respected almost to the height of reverence, yet looked upon as a cheery, helpful companion, by those with whom he was most closely a.s.sociated ... THEODORE ROOSEVELT ... a typical American, using that word in its widest and loftiest sense.

After the close of our struggle with Spain, we discovered that we had not only given, but, also, derived, many benefits as the results of that short, but decisive, conflict; we had acquired considerable territory over which to extend the advantages to be gained from our educational and commercial inst.i.tutions; we had come into such close contact with the people of these, and adjacent, territories that we were enabled to understand their needs and their desires, more fully than we could, otherwise, have done; we had presented to the powers ruling the Old World an object lesson as to the people of the United States of America being, at any and all times, and under every possible circ.u.mstance, fully able to take care of themselves, as well as all that, intrinsically, belongs to them; we had set before the mighty nations of Europe an example of the proper att.i.tude of the strong toward the weak; we had bound together, in a common, just and righteous cause, all factions, all clans, all religions, and all parties, in short, we had bound together the entire population of our well-beloved country, and in such a way that the bonds were indissoluble, unbreakable, and permanent.

While we are, above all things, a peaceful and a law-abiding people, yet we not only can, but always will, defend our altars and our homes against any harm that may be threatened to them; while we do not seek an encounter with any government other than our own, yet at the same time, we are not afraid to meet any nation on the face of the earth, in open combat, giving our enemy the privilege of selecting his own weapons and following out his own ideas as to legitimate warfare.

The blood of the st.u.r.dy and militant Anglo-Saxon, flowing, now, in Yankee veins, is richer and more life-supporting than it was before the Mayflower landed her precious freight of human strength and more than human aspiration upon Plymouth Rock.

All the fond hopes and all the high ambitions, all the daring and all the deep devotion, all the practical achievements and all the airy dreams, of their revered forefathers, are, now, alive and potent, although, it may be, hidden, in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all my fellow-countrymen.

If all the t.i.tles that have ever been bestowed by human beings upon each other ... all the names that indicate the possession of wealth or fame or place or power upon the earth ... should be displayed before my eyes, and I be asked to select but one among them all to be the one by which I would be known, I would without a moment's hesitation, choose AN AMERICAN.

PLOT

Ruth Wakefield, as the daughter of the United States Consul to Cuba, has lived in a beautiful home which her father prepared for his family on a height above Havana harbor since early childhood. Having lost both her natural protectors ... her parents ... through earthly death, she has been much alone with trusty servants, as she has found little companionship among the natives of Cuba. However, she has found a highly respected friend in Father Felix, Priest of the village of San Domingo; to him she has confided her great anxiety concerning some prisoners confined, ex communicado, in the village jail, at the end of the prado, or central park of the village.

"The Lady of the mansion on the hill," as she is known among the villagers, has not, though, told the Priest her real reason for wishing the freedom of the political prisoners. Victorio Colenzo is a handsome but unscrupulous fellow of mixed blood, being part Spanish and part Cuban; he has found the lonely American girl and has courted her with such dash and apparent sincerity that she has married him secretly, not even informing Father Felix of her union with the attractive stranger.

This man is among the political prisoners and it is to free him from bondage that Ruth Wakefield has furnished Father Felix with means with which to overpower and overawe those who have him in charge. Ruth Wakefield is herself deceived, for in the village is a girl, named Estrella, whose lover Victorio Colenzo is known to be by her a.s.sociates, among whom is another of her lovers ... Manuello ... a native Cuban.

This man is also in the San Domingo bastile. Father Felix, at the head of a procession of his followers, breaks into the jail and confronts the keepers with a crucifix which he holds before them, commanding them to release the prisoners; superst.i.tious terror finally induces them to yield to his demands; in the confusion, Manuello contrives to sever the handsome head of Victorio Colenzo from his strong and manly body, so that his corpse is found when the doors are finally thrown open to the people; Estrella finds this body and weeps above it. Father Felix meets Ruth Wakefield by appointment to report as to what he has done, and, in this manner, she discovers the perfidy of her so-called husband. She confesses the truth to Father Felix who sympathizes deeply with her as he knows her to be innocent. She visits the morgue and meets Estrella whom she befriends and, eventually, adds to her household. She has among her servants, a unique character, named Mage, who has been her nurse in babyhood and who is always faithful to her in her own strange way; this old woman, throughout the entire twenty-one chapters of this story, continues to perform unexpected and startling deeds.

Old Mage accompanies her dear young lady when she goes to San Juan and is stationed not far from the battle-field of San Juan Hill. Here, as elsewhere, she continues to exhibit her own individual characteristics as her central and almost sole idea is to protect and a.s.sist Ruth Wakefield, whom, although she regards her with unlimited respect and is entirely devoted to her interests, she still thinks of as the small child she loved before they landed upon the Island of Cuba; realizing how different she is from those around her, only increases the worship of her faithful attendant, who, on the other hand, does not hesitate to use language that will express what she wishes those whom she is addressing to fully understand.

Manuello has a primitive, pa.s.sionate, unbridled and selfish nature; he is wildly in love with Estrella and because she has selected another lover he has committed murder; with this man out of his way, he hopes to succeed with Estrella and goes to her intimate friend, Tessa, to find out how she actually feels about the death of her lover, Victorio Colenzo; Tessa secretly adores Manuello; she is, also, a native Cuban, but her nature is more sluggish than that of Manuello and she has a dog-like affection for Estrella, who has become separated from her own family as a child and is a member of the household of Manuello, being known as his half-sister among the villagers; the handsome peon makes love to little Tessa but she is loyal to Estrella and does what she can to contribute to her happiness, although, when Manuello becomes a fugitive and has been wounded, she ministers to him in a deserted cabin up among the hills where it is almost entirely hidden in a jungle of weeds and rank vegetation. This cabin is the scene of many pitiful endeavors on the part of little Tessa who resists the desires of Manuello to make her his mistress although she dearly and devotedly loves him. Here, at one time, she is secretly followed by Estrella who is led to suspect some secret by Tessa's actions; Estrella informs Father Felix of the situation. Tessa, in one of her struggles with Manuello, has wounded him in one cheek with a knife which she happened to have in her hand. Father Felix visits the hut and Manuello, after severely wounding poor little Tessa, so that she is unable to leave the place, disappears, but turns up again, after the battle of Camp McCalla in a temporary hospital where Ruth Wakefield and Estrella are acting as nurses. Old Mage takes a hand in this affair and so frightens Manuello that he escapes from the hospital although he is wearing many bandages, and, painfully, but determinedly, reaches the deserted hut where he hopes to hide until he has recovered from his wounds. As he approaches the hut he realizes that someone is within it and looks through a small window, seeing Tessa lying on the rude bed she originally prepared for him, and, beside her, kneeling on the floor, Father Felix who has found the weak and suffering girl and is engaged in prayer; Manuello breaks into the cabin and attempts to thrust the Priest aside so that he may wreak his vengeance on the helpless woman. Father Felix, however, proves to be a worthy antagonist and does not hesitate to use his strength in the defense of the innocent, even though it becomes necessary for him to seriously injure the young man who is like a wild beast foiled of its prey. This struggle in the deserted hut, with the wounded girl looking on, continues for some time, but the younger man is finally overpowered, and, seeing himself to be at the mercy of his antagonist, becomes the penitent sinner and confesses to the Priest who labors with him lovingly and ministers to his spiritual condition. The two men then improvise a stretcher and place Tessa upon it, after which they carry the girl to the door of her own home in the village. Here, the Priest dismisses Manuello and tells him to go in peace. The young man then limps back to the deserted hut and remains there unmolested for some time when he disappears again from the neighborhood.

The Americanism of Ruth Wakefield is p.r.o.nounced. Father Felix is equally devoted to their common country. These two often confer as to possible complications connected with international affairs; at one of these consultations, Estrella happens to be present and declares that she believes that she, also, is an American and that she wishes to serve under the same flag as that to which the other two have so often p.r.o.nounced themselves to be devoted. She offers to a.s.sist Ruth in every way she can should there be an occasion that would demand their help.

Ruth Wakefield is awake in her own room and looking down upon Havana harbor on the night of February 15th, 1898 and sees the blowing up of the Maine with her own eyes; Father Felix also sees this and hurries up the hill to talk matters over with Ruth; they form plans as to what they can do for their own country and in the service of the down-trodden people of Cuba whose sufferings under Spanish tyranny they have so often witnessed. Ruth opens her home and offers it as a refuge to all those who wish to escape from Spanish oppression.

Father Felix keeps Ruth well informed as to military matters and, when, on June 10th, 1898, our stars and stripes are waving, for the first time, over Cuban soil, Ruth Wakefield is standing beside Father Felix, who has become an army chaplain, at the window of a temporary hospital which her wealth has made possible. This hospital is situated near Santiago and many American soldiers as well as many Cuban scouts are cared for within its shadowy rooms.

After the battle of San Juan Hill on July 1st 1898, Ruth Wakefield is one among many volunteer nurses who went to the a.s.sistance of a righteous cause. She stands beside a little cot and meets a man who speaks to her of "Teddy" and of the grand and glorious work that he had done that day; with this bond between them, they soon become friends.

Ruth, as one who has authority, moves from cot to cot and, so, comes to stand beside the murderer of her husband or him whom she had called so, for Manuello evened up some of his wickedness by serving n.o.bly in the battle of San Juan Hill and died in consequence of that day's dreadful harvest of human forms. Estrella, too, and Father Felix, come to stand beside his cot, but Ruth is all alone when his soul leaves the clay that it has been inhabiting for awhile, and, so, she realizes as never before, that the man she knew as husband was beneath her in every way and in that terrible and heart-rending moment, she begins to learn the way to forget the first wild love of her young womanhood and find the steps that lead to saner, quieter and happier hours and days and years.

Ruth is given privileges that are not accorded to many near a b.l.o.o.d.y battle-field, and, when she leaves the hospital for the night on July 1st, 1898, she drives her team along a lonely road, hoping to leave behind her, not only the scenes she has just been among, but, also, the thoughts that those scenes have awakened in her mind. She thinks she is going directly away from the recent battle-field. Her team is startled by the sudden rising of a man near the road and runs away, throwing her out upon the ground; she climbs over a low embankment beside the road and finds herself among the dead; she is almost stupefied by this knowledge, but, soon, her instincts for helping those who are in trouble rise above her fears and she cries aloud and calls ... asking if any there are in need of help that she can give to them. A faint voice answers her and she seeks it out and finds an officer who has been stricken down at the head of his squad of men; they are all lying in a disordered heap and Ruth is obliged to lift one dead body off of the man who seems to be alive. Having found him, she proceeds, from her knowledge as a nurse, to aid him ... finds a wound from which his life-blood is flowing fast and forms a tourniquet with a silken scarf she happens to be wearing. He revives enough to whisper to her, naming her, on the instant "Tender Heart" by which t.i.tle he afterwards addresses her.

Having rendered all the aid she can, she speeds away, without fear, now, as she has an object in her flight, until she secures help when she returns and removes the one whom she has found among the dead to the hospital, where, after a long period of suffering and faithful nursing, he recovers sufficiently to accompany her when she returns to her home.

Here he proves himself to be worthy of her love which is bestowed upon him with the approval of Father Felix and even of old Mage. Ruth's home has been destroyed by fire and her entire estate has suffered much from vandalism and from enemies of Cuba and of her own country as well, but she still has plenty with which to rebuild her home and to a.s.sist many in the village of San Domingo who require aid and comfort from those who are stronger than they are.

Among other patients in her temporary hospital near Santiago, Ruth discovers one who is a Spanish spy, for she remembers meeting him when he was a Spanish officer under most distressing circ.u.mstances, when it had been his great desire to do a grievous wrong to a young, ignorant girl whom Ruth rescued from his vile clutches. Ruth hesitates to report this case to the authorities as she is well aware of the fate meted out to spies, and she compromises by telling the facts to Father Felix, who, while he is very tender of the innocent, is just and stern where hypocrites and liars are concerned. The good Priest soon disposes of the Spanish spy.

Father Felix distinguishes himself in many ways during the hostilities between the opposing forces in the Spanish-American war and does much good, for he does not hesitate to do anything that he finds to do regardless of whether it is in the line of his profession or not. He has many experiences as thrilling as the one in the deserted hut with Manuello. He throws himself into many a breach ... wins many a hard-fought battle, and, through it all maintains not only his religious att.i.tude toward all mankind, but manifests a gracious and uplifting love for all who dwell upon the earth, and, at the end of his activities, resumes the humble station he occupied at first, for, as he believes, he can do more good right there in the little village of San Domingo than in a wider and more elevated station.

Many refugees leave Santiago during, and directly after, the naval battle of Santiago; among these are very many wealthy women who are forced to leave their splendid homes and flee, in silken garments, with the riff-raff of the city.

Some among these wealthy women sought to help in temporary hospitals, and one of them, at least, came to that which Ruth Wakefield had endowed; this woman was noticeable in many ways, being of superior intelligence as well as birth and breeding; she, soon, became proficient as a nurse, and when Ruth sees her standing close beside Estrella in the hospital, she suddenly recognizes a subtle resemblance between the two young women and calls their attention to the fact. And, so, it develops that Estrella finds her own blood-kin ... her own loving sister ...

there in that shadowy hospital, for it is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt by a little trinket that the girl has always worn about her neck ... a little cross of golden memories, through which, and through the girl herself, her lineage is traced, so that she remains with her own kin, and does not return to the little village where she suffered so much sorrow.

Tessa, with the stolidity of the Cuban peasant, seems to entirely recover both from her wounded leg and her wounded heart, for she marries a st.u.r.dy workman who supplies the earthly wants of Tessa and her numerous progeny. If she ever remembers the romantic days through which she has pa.s.sed, her appearance belies the fact, for she becomes, apparently, contented with her lot in life.

AN AMERICAN

CHAPTER I

About the beginning of the year eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, there had been aroused in the hearts of the people of the United States a strong feeling of pity and compa.s.sion toward the inhabitants of the Island of Cuba who were under the ironshod heel of Spain and who had made many appeals for help to our own government in one way and in another.

The time was ripe for a revolution among the dark-skinned populace of the large cities of the Island Empire and many confusing circ.u.mstances combined to add to the confusion of sentiments entertained toward the government by those who suffered from its rulings.